


Ruling Heart

by ACatWhoWrites



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Dogs, First Meetings, Gen, Modern Royalty, Princes & Princesses, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: “Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.” ― Bill JohnsonChanyeol's always thought the life of a royal to be easy and glamorous. Given the chance, he finds out there's a whole lot more to it than he imagined, and it's not as fun as he thought.





	Ruling Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #66
> 
> I'd had a totally different idea when I started this, but I shifted to modern royalty and a somewhat lighter mood.

Rumors float around for weeks before RoyalTV News airs a special broadcast: His Highness Baekhyun the First, by the Grace of God of the Kingdom of Hwangguk, and of His Other Realms, welcomes all citizens to enter a raffle with their email or SNS. One lucky winner will be hosted at the City Palace by the youngest prince himself. _Limit one entry per person—entrants 17 years and younger must have parental consent._

 **[+238, -32]** Is this even real?? A whole week with the prince?

 **[+234, -3456]** It’ll probably be like a guided tour. You won’t even get to meet the prince without a fleet of bodyguards.

 **[+5678, -2]** Prince Baekhyunnie’s so handsome~ ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

The raffle is too tempting an opportunity to pass up, and no less than twelve people email a link to the online article to Chanyeol. _Here you go, Lucky Park_. He’s notorious for finding money, getting the last seat on the train, never waiting at a red light when in a hurry, being the token nth customer… He’s blessed by _something_ , and his family and friends all acknowledge it. They often ask him along when they need some luck on their side, and he’s happy to share some luck, if he can. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

It can’t hurt to enter, so he submits an entry using his phone while waiting for the bus with Jongdae and Kyungsoo.

Since he was little, he’s had an interest in the royal family. It probably came, in part, from his mom always calling him and his sister her little prince and princess and his dad calling her his queen. It kind of humanized the Byuns when news articles and essays set royal lineage on a pedestal as something that will eventually achieve immortal status in history.

Plus, the youngest prince is Chanyeol’s age. Given a chance, maybe they could be friends. He’s outgrown that idea, for the most part, but as a university student, he now wonders what the prince would be like if he was Chanyeol’s classmate. A straight-A student? One who studies hard but blanks on tests? A party-loving fraternity brother? There was a small article online a couple years ago, announcing that Prince Baekhyun had enrolled in an online college after attending prestigious schools overseas. It just sounds lonely to Chanyeol.

Lastly, sometime in junior high, Chanyeol started finding the prince really cute. He just has the vibe of an energetic, well-trained-and-eager-to-please puppy. He admitted his kind-of-crush to his friends once, and they have not forgotten.

“You’re actually entering, even with such slim chances?” Kyungsoo’s a cynic and has yet to fully embrace Chanyeol’s Lord Luck position. “Don’t disgrace the people.”

“I wouldn’t!”

“Visiting the City Palace won’t be like the Princess Diaries. No sliding down staircases on mattresses.”

Jongdae chimes in from behind Kyungsoo, leaning against his back with his arms crossed around his shoulders.“Maybe it’ll be like Roman Holiday, and you can kidnap the prince for a date around the city.”

Chanyeol presses a hand to his chest. “One: Why are you referencing movies like I can’t distinguish fiction from reality? Two: why do you have such _low_ expectations for me? And three: I regret telling you about my crush everyday.”

“We’re only teasing,” Jongdae assures, patting his arm. “Honestly, it’s more likely you’d woo him with your cooking.”

Kyungsoo has to crush all hope. “How is that likely? They have professional cooks and people tasting the royal family’s food.”

“Don’t you think popcorn tastes better than Chanyeol makes it?”

Kyungsoo sighs and shakes his head. “That’s just your laziness. There have been dozens of studies and articles on why food tastes better when someone else makes it...”

“If you studied for your classes as hard as you researched random ass things online, you’d be the top of your grade.”

Kyungsoo’s ears redden, but he can’t rebuke it. It’s probably true. People are always amazed when they find out just how little he studies; his good grades come from some kind of natural intelligence and not effort. While he doesn’t believe in Chanyeol’s inherent luck, he does believe that if he studies, he does worse on tests. So he doesn’t study. When will he need to know half of what they’re taught, anyway?

“So are you excited to be leaving us for a whole week?”

“I’m just looking forward to meeting the prince, but I don’t think I’ll have time to even miss you guys. You’re forever in my heart, though.” Kyungsoo twists his arm before he can hug him.

“Don’t be fooled by celebrity personalities, Chanyeol. TV, even RoyalTV, can lie.”

Chanyeol rubs his sore arm. He’s used to Kyungsoo’s rough love, but it still hurts. “I think he’s pretty genuine, from the events and interviews I’ve seen.”

“Money can buy acting lessons.” Chanyeol thinks he hears him mutter, _And love is blind,_ but he’s not sure.

“Says the acting student,” Jongdae points out.

 

 

The day his palace stay begins, the prince sends a car to pick Chanyeol up at his dorm. Before it arrives, he receives a text from an unknown number saying that the car will be there soon, but he hears the excited gossip while walking outside and knows it’s been spotted.

A sleek black limousine pulls up alongside the sidewalk in front of the dorms. When Chanyeol hears “car,” he does not think “limo,” although he can’t be too surprised, because what else would the prince of the country use? A van?

The driver’s door opens, and a young man in uniform walks around the front of the car to open the rear door, allowing another man to step out.

Beside him, Jongdae comments on the driver’s handsomeness, probably thinking he was speaking softly. Being the nominated Scream King since his freshman year of undergrad, however, Jongdae’s quiet is still pretty loud, and the driver ducks his head, fidgeting.

“Thank you. He’s my youngest brother and a talented driver, as well.” The passenger is handsome, with the white face of a prince and a politician's smile. He looks at Chanyeol and bows. “Park Chanyeol. I’m Kim Joonmyun, His Highness’s butler. I’ve been sent to pick you up.”

“I was honestly just going to take the bus. This is kind of overwhelming.” He rubs the back of his neck and tries to ignore the growing crowd of curious bystanders. Kyungsoo elbows his other arm.

“Get it together. You’re being embarrassing.”

Joonmyun’s smile is kind. “Your feeling is understandable, and I’m sure His Highness wouldn’t judge anyone for feeling overwhelmed. Is this your first time riding a limousine, Mr. Park?”

“Yeah, and call me Chanyeol. Mr. Park makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” Jongdae snorts. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.

“Chanyeol.” Joonmyun checks an expensive looking watch on his wrist and steps aside. “Not to rush your goodbyes, but we are following a schedule, if you’d please have a seat. Jongin will put your bags in the trunk.” Jongin, the driver, moves when mentioned and holds out his arm for Chanyeol’s backpack, taking his wheeled suitcase with his other hand and taking them both to the back of the limousine. It’s such a long car that Chanyeol could pack his dorm in the extended body; the trunk just seems redundant.

“Well,” Jongdae claps a hand on his back and hugs him, “video call us later, Chanyeol. We’ve gotta go.”

“You’re leaving me?”

“ _You’re leaving_!” Kyungsoo shoos him with a hand. “Get in the car!”

Chanyeol pouts. “You won’t even miss me, will you, Soo?”

“I can’t miss you when you’re still here.” Jongdae slings an arm around them both.

“I’ll miss you enough for the both of us. Don’t get too comfortable in the Palace.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Chanyeol waves to some of his other friends in the collected crowd and ducks into the limousine. Joonmyun follows, and Jongin closes the door so softly Chanyeol doesn’t even hear it. There aren’t seat belts, which concerns him, but he tries to sit comfortably while planting his feet firmly on the floor, just in case.

“You’re very popular,” Joonmyun comments, looking back at the crowd when Jongin pulls away from the curb, “and very well liked, too.”

Chanyeol grins and nods. “They’re all good people. I like them a lot. Jongdae and Kyungsoo are my best friends.”

“I hope you can lend some of that affection to His Highness. It’s unfortunate, but he’s not had as many opportunities to make friends, especially around his own age.”

“I’m sure he’s busy dedicating his energy and attention to the people. If I can, I hope I can be considered a friend by the time I leave.”

Joonmyun smiles at him, then changes the subject to Chanyeol’s major in school and what he intends to do in the future. Talking to someone as important as the butler, conceivably the right-hand man, of the prince, admitting he’s a music major just seems...lame. He doesn’t lie, though, because he had five different people tell him that Palace staff would probably do a background check on him. He just wonders if that one speeding ticket really was expunged from his record.

“Hyung.” Chanyeol jumps. “Five minutes.”

“Thank you, Jongin.” The glass divider rolls up soundlessly, and Chanyeol faces another of Joonmyun’s politician smiles. “Are you ready?”

The butterflies in his stomach actually make him want to jump out of the car and go home, but he nods instead and fakes as much bravado as he can muster. “I woke up ready, Mr. Kim.”

“Good. Wait for Jongin to open the door, and you’ll follow me out. He’ll take your luggage to your room.” It’s like he’s being coached, and Chanyeol’s belly butterflies start puking with anxiety.

The car slows to a stop before twin iron gates that swing open after a moment’s waiting. Trees line the brick driveway, and Chanyeol can’t see a single weed in the cracks between the blocks. Even the lawn is immaculately mowed and entirely grass until closer to the City Palace, where shrubs hedge in flower beds.

The driveway loops around a fountain, and a carport provides shelter over the front doors of the Palace itself. Joonmyun sits forward a little, ready to step out right when his brother opens the car door. Chanyeol scoots awkwardly across the bench seat to follow Joonmyun and thanks Jongin. He smiles and wishes him luck.

His butterflies are dying one by one. Why does he need luck when meeting the prince?

Joonmyun opens the front door, although someone Chanyeol assumes to be the doorman is stationed nearby. “It’s part of my job,” the butler says. “Opening building doors. Jongin handles car doors.” So would they fight over the doors to an RV?

Inside the Palace is just as impressive as the outside. The architecture is open and airy, still with plenty of nooks and ledges for dust to potentially collect, and their footsteps echo on the marble floor. Joonmyun takes on the role of a tour guide as he leads Chanyeol down hallways. “The masonry was done by a local master, and the marble columns were imported from Tuscany, but the flooring is from Ethiopia.”

Chanyeol’s neck hurts from looking up at the ceiling and walls, but there is so much detail put into everything and history behind everything down to the door hinges. It’s simply opulent and very much something the general citizen couldn’t even dream of affording. He’d only ever seen the Palace in passing, when on the bus outside, and such a distant look doesn’t do the livable art justice.

They reach a pair of doors set into the middle of a long wall. Joonmyun presses down on one of the levered handles, and Chanyeol expects a shrieking squeak, but both doors swing inwards soundlessly.

A trio of older men in suits and a younger woman are clustered around the large desk when they enter. The prince sits among them, head tossed back in a laugh. There are papers set out, but no one’s even looking at them. Joonmyun knocks, and the group leaves with polite bows but relaxed posture. The butler then takes the door knobs again, backing out of the office.

“You’re leaving me?” Chanyeol whispers fiercely. He’s feeling very abandoned today.

“You’re perfectly safe with His highness, but ring this cord,” the butler nods to a thick rope beside the doors, “if you need anything.”

“But I—” Need an adult. He doesn’t know this person he’s being left alone with, this place he’s been brought to, or anything useful to suggest how to act or what to say. Trial by fire isn’t a good way to meet royalty. Kyungsoo’s voice echos in his head: _Don’t embarrass us!_ He can’t just stare at the doors, though, so he turns around and nearly screams. He hadn’t heard anything, but the prince stands right behind him.

The prince flinches and whines, looking as shocked as Chanyeol feels. “You scared me!” He’s laughing, then, so Chanyeol doesn’t think he’s about to be imprisoned. 

“I’m sorry, Highness. Uh…” He bows fast, nearly knocking their heads together. “I’m Park Chanyeol. Thank you for this opportunity.” The prince’s smile is very charming, making his eyes into crescents, and when Chanyeol straightens again, he realizes the prince only stands to his chin. He’s not as big as he seems on TV.

“Feel free to call me Baekhyun. Literally no one does, but why should I have a name if no one uses it?” Even his pout is charming. He is so cute. Cuter than on TV. “I am relieved, though. I was kind of worried I’d be entertaining an auntie for a week—which I would, if that’s how it turned out,” he assures, “it just wouldn’t be as fun, I don’t think—but you’re my age, right?”

“I was born in 1992.”

“What month?”

“November.”

The prince shouts. “May! Call me hyung.”

“You’re barely older than me.”

“But I’m still older, and are you really going to argue with the prince?” No, Chanyeol is not, and Baekhyun grins. “Do you like dogs, Chanyeol?”

He misses the segue, if there was one, but it’s a topic he’s all aboard for anytime. “I love dogs! I’m allergic, so I’ve never had one.That, and I live in a dorm. No pets allowed.” There were a couple fish he and Jongdae won at a festival, and then a turtle and some newts they caught after a rainstorm, but the fish eventually died, the newts had babies, and the turtle had a personal vendetta or a crush on Kyungsoo, because it kept breaking out of its cage and going to his bedroom, so they were all released.

“Follow me. It’s about time, anyway.” Chanyeol wants to ask _Time for what?_ , but as the great song goes, _Does anyone really know what time it is? Does anyone really care?_ so he just follows the prince to a balcony with stairs build onto the side.

They’re at the back of the Palace. Chanyeol can’t believe they’re still within the City; he can look in all directions and not see any skyscrapers or cell towers or signs of civilisation. It’s all green grass, tall trees, and blue skies.

A short walk from the Palace is a sort of oasis. Trees stand clustered together with careful planning, so their limbs cross together overhead and form a canopy. Beneath them, a young man sits on the grass and appears to play patty-cake with a fawn-colored Corgi.

“Taehyung!”

The man looks up and scrambles to his feet to bow. “Highness.” The Corgi looks over its shoulder and eagerly barks, not moving until Baekhyun crouches down and whistles. 

As fast as its little legs can carry it, the dog runs for the prince and wriggles in a sort of joyous dance, whining loudly and pawing at his arms. “This is Mongryong and his trainer, Kim Taehyung. I feel bad I can’t train him myself, so I make time every day I can to play with him a bit.” He puts his arms around the wriggly dog and turns him around, lifting it onto its short hind legs to hug it and rub its white belly.

Taehyung raises his hand. “To clarify, he makes time for Mongryongie, not me. I am also already fully trained.” The prince makes a snarky remark, and Chanyeol remembers what Joonmyun said about the prince’s lack of friends his own age. Taehyung is technically an employee, but he and Baekhyun are relaxed around each other. Without his position, though, there wouldn’t be a way for them to meet and get to know each other. Assuming that’s the case for just about everyone, Chanyeol’s probably the first non-employee allowed to spend considerable time with Baekhyun.

“You can sit down, Chanyeol.” He looks down, realizing he’s been standing zoned out and Taehyung’s gone. “I was just planning on laying around outside for a while.” His Corgi’s spread out on its back between his legs, enjoying a body massage.

“Sorry. I was thinking.” He folds his legs and sits across from the prince, leaning forward to run his fingers through the dog’s soft fur. It turns its head to look at him kind of upside down, tongue lolling happily.

“Have you ever stopped thinking? Seriously, like can you just stop your brain from conscious thought? I’ve done that a couple times, usually when I’m in meetings about things that’ll never be resolved, so listening is pointless effort.”

“I’ve never tried. I just keep thinking about other things until I forget the original thought.”

“I do that a lot at night. There’s just a lot to think about, and it makes it hard to sleep.” Chanyeol has a sneaking suspicion his thoughts and the prince’s are drastically different.

Mongryong flails its legs and rolls over to stand and shake out its coat, toddling to Chanyeol and sticking its muzzle in his face.

“You know I’m allergic but can’t resist, don’t you?” He digs his fingers into the dog’s neck and scratches until a hind foot starts thumping.

“He’s smart,” Baekhyun boasts. “When I picked him out of the litter, he was the only puppy smart enough to find shade by laying beneath me.” He looks over Chanyeol’s shoulder. Joonmyun’s approaching at a leisurely pace, looking almost ethereal in the sunlight.

“Highness, lunch is ready.”

“Thank you, hyung.” Baekhyun smiles at Chanyeol, who watches Joonmyun walk away. “He looks more like a prince, right? He’s ridiculously handsome. I found out he and Jonginnie both have fanclubs online awhile ago. Their cousin does, too; he owns a coffee shop called RoyalTea, and business is still really good, I’ve read.”

“They must have really good genes.” He stands and helps Baekhyun to his feet. Mongryong stands between them, tiny tail wagging.

“You look like you’d be really popular, too.”

“I dunno about _really_ popular.” He does take pride in his looks, and Jongdae would be the first to sell him out about it. Reflective surfaces are his friends, and he may or may not have purposely found routes around campus to take him through the most populated areas, even if they take longer.

Lunch is set out on the balcony they’d descended from. Mongryong hops diagonally up the steps and splays out beneath Baekhyun’s chair.

The spread of food isn’t as exotic as Chanyeol assumed it would be; they’re dishes he’d prepare and eat at home. On the side, however, there are fruits he’s only seen in documentaries, so while the dishes are local, the ingredients are probably not.

“Is there anything you’d like to see in the Palace, Chanyeol? You just came right in from the car, right? I could give you a tour.” A tour of the entire Palace could take days, but it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Public tours only go through rooms like libraries, the kitchen, sitting rooms, and glances over bedrooms.

“A tour sounds good. It’s a really beautiful building.” He pretends to not see Baekhyun slipping his dog food beneath the table, and the prince pretends not to see when Chanyeol does the same after feeling the press of a curious nose against his knee.

After eating, they leave the table as-is, and Chanyeol feels bad for leaving his dishes. 

What he’d seen while first entering the Palace is like the tip of the metaphorical iceberg. Artistry and finery continue throughout, and Chanyeol’s in awe of the prince’s knowledge of the history of the place, although having grown up with it, he’s probably heard about it since birth and just remembered it from repetition.

Each generation of royalty has added something to the City Palace. Baekhyun’s grandmother, a ballet patroness and ballerina in her younger days, added on a dance studio. His parents added the brick driveway; it used to be compressed gravel. The prince’s personal contributions, he says, are the conversion of one of the massive libraries into an indoor skateboard park. Whether it stays that way or not depends, but it’s a place he likes to spend time, when he can.

Another room he enjoys and uses a lot is the theatre, added by a great-great relative and converted to a movie theatre by a more recent relative. They settle into reclining chairs; Baekhyun controls the screen and lights from a remote beside his seat. Mongryong climbs onto his own seat—with help—and they watch a drama Chanyeol’s actually seen a couple of times, but Baekhyun admits he’s behind, because of his schedule.

After a dinner of the best Italian food Chanyeol’s ever had, he’s exhausted and ready for bed. He walks with Baekhyun to take Mongryong back to Taehyung the trainer and is escorted to his own guest room by the prince himself.

“I hope you’ve not been disappointed, yet, Chanyeol.”

“I told Joonmyun when he picked me up in a limo that I was overwhelmed; I gotta say it’s a lot more relaxed than I expected.” He yawns. “I’m still ready for bed, though.”

Baekhyun grins, suppressing his own yawn. “This is a rare day for me, too. The ‘real experience’ at the Palace will start tomorrow.” He smiles wider. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, though. That’s what I wanted with this event. All of your bags have been brought in; there’s a bathroom attached to your room. Goodnight, Chanyeol.”

“Night.” Chanyeol leans out the door to see where the prince’s room is, but it’s not in the same hall. Guests and family are kept separate, apparently. It’s weird to think about all of the empty rooms around him.

There’s something to be said about sheets with a thread count greater than three-hundred, though, he thinks after a shower and collapsing onto the bed. He sometimes has trouble sleeping in an unfamiliar place, and there’s a bit of anxiety when he looks around the darkened room, but he’s ultimately too tired and comfortable and falls asleep.

 

The real experience, as the prince said, begins bright and early the next morning.

Chanyeol sleeps through it.

The prince himself barges into his room and tears off the covers with a cheerful "Wake up, common prince!"

Chanyeol reaches for his blankets but grasps nothing but air, sitting up with a groggy whine. He doesn't remember where he is, at first. Then he sees the prince and is instantly more awake and conscious of his undressed state.

“Uh…” He holds a pillow over himself. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

“It’s after noon. I almost sent Joonmyun to wake you.” The way he says it sounds like a threat; Chanyeol wonders what methods the butler uses to wake the sleepy prince. He sits on the edge of the mattress, bouncing a little. “Do you always sleep so long?”

Chanyeol yawns and slowly shakes his head. “No.” He’s usually in class, but any chance to sleep in is a chance he just has to take. “What’d I miss?”

“Breakfast and a meeting with some senators. Nothing too exciting. I have some things to take care of before lunch, still, and you’re welcome to join me, if you want.”

“What is it?”

“Just some fan mail. I try to reply to some of them. It’s tedious, is all.”

“I’ll tag along after I get dressed.” It’s a hint that dawns slowly on the prince, and he gets off the bed with pink ears, saying he’ll wait outside.

Something Chanyeol’s noticed is the dress code around the Palace is rather relaxed, except for cleaning and kitchen staff. The prince wears jeans and a simple button up; Joonmyun wears slacks and a button up. No fancy jewellery or crowns or anything. Looking at his own well-loved jeans and plain T-shirt, Chanyeol wonders just how much more a similar outfit would cost to even be considered by the prince. He can’t imagine royals shopping clearance.

Baekhyun pushes off the wall beside his door. “I always go to one of the libraries to read letters. It’s just comfy, and it’s what my parents used it for, too, so everyone calls it the Letter Room. 

Down a flight of stairs and down another hall, Baekhyun brightens when he sees an older gentleman leaving a side room. He stops beside him and bows. “How are you, Senator?”

“Oh, Prince Baekhyun! I’m well, Highness, and I’m sorry to have missed that meeting earlier.”

“It was the same as usual, although your presence was missed.”

The old man looks up at Chanyeol. He has kind eyes. :Is this the winner of that raffle of yours?”

“Yes. Senator Choi, this is Park Chanyeol. Chanyeol, my godfather.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Chanyeol bows. How does one act around a prestigious and respected government official who’s also a beloved relative of the prince? He can only bow and smile and hope he doesn’t look like a total doofus.

“Take care around our prince, young man. You’ll be swept away in his mischief.”

“I haven’t even done anything!” Baekhyun whines.

“He once brought the entire pack of His Majesty the King’s scent hounds inside to play. I’d never seen so much dog shit and drool in my life.”

“How was I supposed to know they weren’t housebroken? I was nine.”

The senator chuckles and pats his shoulder. “You’ve definitely grown up since then. Our people are in good hands.” He bows a little stiffly. “Excuse me, now. I have another meeting to prepare for.”

“It was good seeing you, Senator.” 

Chanyeol just bows again and waves. Senator Choi seems like a really nice man, obviously fond of the prince.

“Before you ask: Yes, I really did that. There was a lot of carpeting that had to be replaced.” He throws his hands up. “I just wanted to play, and they looked so sad outside all the time!” He leads Chanyeol to what he thinks is a library. Books sit in neat rows along floor-to-ceiling shelves along three walls. Chanyeol can’t read most of the titles.

“What’s next on the agenda?”

“It’s a bit off, because of that one meeting. I’d usually read these,” he gestures to the boxes full of mail, “after breakfast.”

“Are these all from today?!” Chanyeol gets excited when he gets mail that’s not junk.

“Yeah. Most mail is sent here, but the Country Mansion, where my parents live, gets mail specifically addressed to them, same with my brother and his wife at their home. Everything else is right here.” He pats the boxes with a tired sigh. “I think I’ve read more in letters than I have in books, and the genres are just as varied.”

“You have to read all of this?”

“Not all of them, no,” he picks up a throw pillow and sits in its place, tucking it beside him, “but I try to read enough to get an idea of the people’s current feelings. Sorry it’s nothing exciting. You can go explore, if you want. I’ll be here a while. I have to reply to some of them.”

“If I help you’ll get done twice as fast, right?” Assuming their reading speed is similar, but that’s too technical to consider. “I can’t do any replies, but I find ones that would need one, if I help.”

“I guess, but...”

“Let me help, then you can move on to something you actually want to do.”

“If you’re sure. You can always ask Jonginnie to take you somewhere…”

“I’m here to spend time with you, Highness, not your driver, regardless of how handsome he is.” He drops into a comfy chair beside Baekhyun’s and grabs a handful of envelopes, reading them dutifully and separating them by sense of urgency—tossing hate mail in a pile beneath his chair. “Some people have nothing better to do then complain…”

“I’d rather hear about it,” Baekhyun says, refolding a page to replace it neatly in its envelope, “so we can maybe find a solution. Hiding problems doesn’t make them go away.”

“True.” But the royals are not trash receptacles for complaints about litter in the parks or the lack of outlets in a cafe.

He feels his eyes crossing after the umpteenth letter and opens a slightly thicker envelope. Reaching into it blindly he feels some kind of threat and drops it with a shout. “ _Oh my God!_ ”

“What? What is it?”

Carefully, Chanyeol nudges the envelope. “Someone sent _hair_.”

“Give it here.” The prince has no fear. Chanyeol wonders just how he grew up, to be so unaffected. 

Baekhyun takes the envelope and checks the return address, nodding with a growing smile. “I know this woman. We met at about a year ago, at a public event, and she asked if she could name her baby after me. She sends me letters and photos about him.” He flips through the photos and holds one up, showing a handsome woman cheek-to-cheek with a beaming baby. “This is them.”

“Aww! He looks like her.”

Baekhyun smiles at the photos affectionately. “Her baby was premature, and I was, too, so she thinks naming him after me will bring him good health.”

“I really hope so. Now I feel bad for throwing her letter.”

Baekhyun sets the letter aside to read later. “It’s okay. What were you like as a child, Chanyeol?”

“Me?” He carefully looks inside the next envelope, but it’s just a handwritten letter. “Not a whole lot different than now, I don’t think. More quiet, but I was kind of chubby and didn’t make friends very easily. I wasn’t unhappy or anything, though.”

“I think I was lonely as a little kid, but I just didn’t know it, because there were always people around. I’m used to it, now, at least. It’s not so bad.” Sitting in a book-lined room with boxes of letters from people he’s mostly never met, Baekhyun looks lonely to Chanyeol. He’s young; prince or no, he’s got his own dreams and interests, and he deserves more time to explore them and actually _live_ , not just function day-to-day with a set schedule.

“You wanna get ice cream?”

The prince turns a letter over, replying distantly, “We can ring for some, if you want.”

“No, like—I mean _go out_ and get ice cream.”

Baekhyun looks at him. “I...Can we do that?”

“You’re the prince. Do what you want.”

Baekhyun laughs, but it’s a dry and humorless laugh. “Even princes have restrictions. Although” he considers with a thoughtful finger on his bottom lip—he has really pretty hands—“as long as my work is done, no one can say I’m wasting time, so…” He halves his pile of letters and passes them to Chanyeol with a smile. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can get ice cream.”

Chanyeol’s eyes _hurt_ by the time they’ve each read a thick stack of letters. Baekhyun’s is considerably taller than Chanyeol’s, but he chalks it up to years of experience. Chanyeol’s always been more of a comic book reader.

The prince stretches his arms over his head and sighs once his back cracks. “It’s not hard work, but it’s _long_.”

“No kidding.” Chanyeol feels like his grandpa when he finally gets to his feet. His spine feels bent, and his butt feels flat. “But it went faster, right?”

“I’d be at it for at least another hour, so thank you.” He leads Chanyeol into the hall and points to the left. “Jongin’s probably in the studio. We can ask him to pull the car around.”

Chanyeol points to himself. “I can drive. Like, as long as there’s no weird insurance clause or whatever, and it’s not a manual, I can drive us.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You never drive yourself?”

“I have Jongin; his dad drove me before him. I’ve never needed to learn.”

“Well...is it okay if we take a car?”

“Sure. We’ll just take mine.”

“You can’t drive, but you have a car?”

“I can’t draw, either, but I buy paintings.”

“Touche.”

Chanyeol’s family three cars, if he includes his sister’s. He hasn’t bought one, because he usually takes the bus or train or taxi wherever he needs to go and thus doesn’t worry about parking or traffic tickets.

Needless to say, he’s never even seen a car like the prince’s up close. It’s imported and sporty and not at all inconspicuous. “I won’t get in trouble for this, will I?” Chanyeol asks as he buckles his seat. “And why are you sitting in the back?”

“Oh.” Baekhyun climbs between the front seats rather than exiting and re-entering, falling onto the passenger seat with a grunt. “Habit. I didn’t even think about it.” He opens the glove compartment and pulls out a mask and ball cap. “You won’t get in trouble if I say it was my idea.”

“Will _you_ get in trouble?”

The prince blows a raspberry and hooks the mask over his ears. Chanyeol figures that’s his answer and presses the button on the dash to start the car.

“Okay, so where to?” He’s suddenly worried that ice cream may have been a little juvenile to suggest. That, and he’s never heard of a classy ice cream parlor.

Baekhyun leans towards him, looking at the center display on the dash. He taps a few buttons, finally bringing up a map program and searching for an address. “Just follow this,” he says. He taps another button, and music plays through hidden speakers surrounding the cabin. Chanyeol can feel the bass beneath his feet.

It takes him a couple stops to get the hang of the power and acceleration, but he eventually feels confident enough to drive more casually, with just one hand at the bottom of the wheel. It’s still warm enough to drive with the windows down, although Baekhyun keeps his more closed than open and sings along to songs on the radio.

Their drive is less than twenty minutes, taking them to a street lined with boutiques and cafes as well as a cute ice cream parlor and bakery named _I Scream **Cake**_.

Chanyeol finds a parking spot on a side lot and manages to not hit any other cars. He’s certain the prince’s car costs more than his tuition, including textbooks.

Baekhyun hops out of the car and settles the cap on his head after playing with his bangs a little. Chanyeol once made disparaging remarks about idols wearing the masks and caps, because it just makes them stand out more in a crowd of maskless people, but Kyungsoo pointed out that people generally single them out, sure, but they still don’t know who they are. Some fans are really attentive, though, and can identify people by their biceps or eyebrows, which is absolutely ridiculous and incredible to Chanyeol. If it was him, he’d probably be pointed out because of his height; it’s not easy being over six feet tall among the average height, three inches shorter.

The ice cream shop isn’t busy in the late morning, apparently. Students are in class, and sweet things before lunch is like eating backwards. No line, no wait; Chanyeol loves it and delightedly orders three scoops of chocolate caramel ice cream in a waffle cone with extra chocolate and caramel on top.

The girl behind the register smiles shyly. “Are you together or paying separate?” Baekhyun pipes up before Chanyeol can even tough his wallet.

“Together. Vanilla ice cream macaroon, please.” He slips around Chanyeol and hands a black card to the cashier, who visibly shakes when she takes it.

It’s _ice cream_. Cash is perfectly acceptable payment for ice cream. Whipping out a black credit card is begging for attention. Baekhyun’s relaxed, though, returning the plastic to his wallet and taking his treat with a smile that lifts his eyes into crescents. “Thank you so much!”

They take their ice cream to an open booth at the back of the store, next to a window looking out at the back patio of a restaraunt. A stone-paved walkway joins the two properties. Birds hops along the little plots of grass, picking up pebbles and bugs and whatever else looks good to a bird. It’s calm until Baekhyun’s pocket vibrates.

“Joonmyun hyung,” he answers around a mouthful of giant macaroon. Chanyeol hears the butler’s reply, asking where Baekhyun was. “I’m getting ice cream with Chanyeol. Didn’t want to bother Jongin, so Chanyeol drove. ...Of course I’m wearing it, but I have to take it off to eat. ...Is there really? ...That’s fast. ...Yeah, we’ll come back after this. I promise. ...I didn’t give directions, the car did. If it takes us the long way, oh well. ...Of course. Bye bye.” He licks a drop of ice cream from his palm and opens something on his phone. “He said someone’s already posting pictures online.”

“We’ve not even been here an hour.”

“I think they know all of our license plates, so if a car’s out, they find it right away.” Baekhyun pushes his phone towards Chanyeol. “You turned out nice, anyway.”

A blog dedicated to royal news—mostly gossip—has links to fan photos on Twitter of them walking outside and sitting in the shop. There’s literally no one else around; people must be using ridiculous zoom lenses.

 **[+3456, -765]** they look really good together♡♡♡

 **[+ 908, -12]** Is the tall guy a noble? He’s really handsome!!

 **[+2431, - 67]** I have stats with Chanyeol, the tall guy.☆ He really is that good-looking.

 **[+678, -21]** Oh my goodness. I’m not sure if I’m more jealous of the prince or the guest!

“Is this normal? You’re like an idol.” He pushes the phone back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He hopes no one took a picture of that; his mom would smack him for not using a napkin.

“I’m used to it. It’s harmless. If it makes them happy to see me, then that makes me happy.”

As much as they’d like to meander, fans knowing their location and taking pictures—and knowing Joonmyun is anxious when Baekhyun is out of his sight—drives them back to the car and the City Palace. It was nice while it lasted; Chanyeol wants to go out again sometime. The prince is good company, and that shop has good ice cream.

They skip lunch, going out to play with Mongryong the Corgi again, but they don’t get to spend as much time with it. Joonmyun comes out to remind the prince about a meeting with a reporter, and Chanyeol tags along.

Baekhyun is polite and friendly, like usual, although Chanyeol catches on to the deliberate steering in his speech, keeping away from topics that get too personal or dig too much into current political actions the monarchy is taking. It’s done in such a way that there is still an answer, though, and the reporter leaves seemingly satisfied with their interview until they lay their eyes on Chanyeol.

“You’re the one who won the prince’s raffle. What do you think of the photos taken of your date earlier?”

News travels fast, but news is a reporter’s business.

Baekhyun steps between them, tone firm. “He is my guest and unavailable for questions at this time, as he is here to experience my own schedule, which, you understand, is busy. Thank you so much for coming out, though; it was nice seeing you again. Joonmyun will see you out.” There’s no room for argument or comment. As grateful as he is to not have to sit through an interview himself, Chanyeol doesn’t like Baekhyun the efficient politician as much as Baekhyun the kind prince.

Later, Chanyeol finally turns on his phone and is inundated with texts and missed calls. He scrolls through the chat among him, Jongdae, and Kyungsoo. It’s mostly Jongdae whining about how much he misses Chanyeol and bemoaning the lack of replies. It makes Chanyeol smile and feel a pang of loneliness; they’re still in the same city, but home feels far away.

He opens his internet browser and searches for articles about the royal family’s daily life. Among the three locations, he knows, things are different. It makes sense, with the king and queen carrying most of the government interactions, their firstborn having the second-greatest responsibilities, and then the youngest playing a more supporting role, but it still seems like a lot and more than enough to exhaust a normal person.

He finds a promising result in an article from a few years ago, when the family all lived together. According to the writer, who had spent a day with the King and Queen like Chanyeol’s doing, the royal family wakes up every morning a half an hour before the national anthem is played beneath their windows. They eat breakfast separately while reading the newspapers from their kingdom and commonwealths, followed by public letters—Baekhyun called them fan mail. Collectively, the Byuns receive more than five hundred letters every day. This is a couple years out of date, but five hundred seems right currently, as well.

After the fan mail comes official mail, which Baekhyun has only recently been introduced to and is already ‘bored to death’ over, so he’s said. Government documents, state papers, decrees, so on and so forth. It’s an awful lot of paper, but the King and Queen want both of their sons as versed and familiar with their kingdom’s mechanics as possible, which is great for future rulers and leaders, but the only days off from such tedious responsibilities are national holidays. Even then, they’re usually only half days, giving them time to make public appearances but return to attend to the official paperwork. Yesterday was a treat for Baekhyun.

The article continues with the King and Queen spending their morning traveling to various venues across the kingdom, and they still do, as far as Chanyeol knows, but with the Countryside Manor rather than City Palace being their main residence. Baekbom, the oldest prince, had accompanied them until his marriage. There was a humanitarian mission recently that the older prince and duchess joined, similar to the King and Queen’s appearances.

Just before lunch is when the Byuns generally have meetings with ambassadors and special guests, although time is limited to be sure that only the important topics are discussed without eating too much of the royals’ time. Very occasionally, the time for meetings is taken up by awards ceremonies and knighthoods for services to the community and crown.

The only public meal, where the family sits together and eats, was lunch. They usually talked about more diplomacy and politics. In Chanyeol’s family, dinner was family time and when they would catch up on everyone’s day or make plans for the following day. Even during lunch and breakfast, everyone who was home and had the time would sit and eat together. It made the food taste better, to Chanyeol.

He skims over the rest of the article, just feeling more and more sorry for the youngest prince. Even when his family lived in the Palace, they didn’t really see a lot of each other. Even family visits were booked in advance. Dropping by for a visit because they’re in the neighborhood is unheard of and rude, although if the King and Queen drop by, it’s an honor.

It’s sad. Chanyeol feels bad for Baekhyun, putting on a smile for the nation when he’s just lonely and tired.


End file.
